A Quiet Yearning
by sarosh
Summary: A routine mission becomes a lot more as a lost friend comes home. Konoha’s secrets are unraveling and not everyone is happy about it. Shikamaru gets a front seat to the chaos Naruto is about to unleash.


Disclaimer: Naruto does not in any fashion belong to me. I am simply taking a few creative liberties.

NB: Post Manga (current series) so watch out for spoilers. **Mild Yaoi warning**. Obviously AU.

Summary: A routine mission becomes a lot more as a lost friend comes home. Konoha's secrets are unraveling and not everyone is happy about it. Shikamaru gets a front seat to the chaos Naruto is about to unleash.

**Part one**

**"I dwell in the midst of a perfect race, I the most imperfect. I, a human chaos, a nebula of confused elements, I move amongst finished worlds – peoples of complete laws and pure order, whose thoughts are assorted, whose dreams are arranged, and whose visions are enrolled and registered . . . All these things, O God, are conceived with forethought, born with determination, nursed with exactness, governed by rules, directed by reason, and then slain and buried after a prescribed method. And even their silent graves that lie within the human soul are marked and numbered. It is a perfect world, a world of supreme consummate excellence, a world of supreme wonders, the ripest fruit in God's garden, the master-thought of the universe. But why should I be here, O God, I a green seed of unfulfilled passion, a mad tempest that seeketh neither east nor west, a bewildered fragment from a burned planet?" **

**Khalil Gibran, **_**A Perfect World**_

****

**The Walk H****ome**

**Shikamaru****: Coalesce**

The lobby was empty, that was not something he had expected. His leg ached constantly now, an unwelcome reminder of a past that wouldn't leave him alone. He sat on the red chair by the fountain. One hour – he would wait an hour, and then he had plans to put into place.

The rustling of cloth woke him from his light doze. The movement was very slight, but his ears were trained for these things. Shikamaru Nara may not have been the most liveliest of ninjas around, but there was no doubt that he was the smartest – and the strict training regimen he had followed after his sensei's death had made him all the more formidable.

Sarutobi, Asuma's death had changed the Nara in ways he had never imagined. The laziness inherent in all Nara men seemed to have vanished completely as Shikamaru attacked both training and missions with a zeal never before demonstrated. His sensei's death had alerted Shikamaru to his own mortality – he had always assumed he knew what being a ninja was about – but the circumstances leading up to Asuma's death had given him a rude awakening, one that he had taken to heart.

Covertly cataloguing his surrounding through his hooded eyes he let the corner of his lips twist into a smirk – he had come a long way since the chuunin exams which had resulted in his promotion. A long way indeed.

He allowed his thoughts to drift off as a kikkai landed on his arm – Shino was near, which meant the earlier rustling had been curtsey of Kiba. Shikamaru frowned. Even after all these years the Inuzuka sometimes still channeled Naruto's spirit.

Naruto.

Even thinking his name brought a fierce ache to his chest.

Four years now and there had been no clue regarding the blonde's disappearance. Shikamaru wondered if he should do like his other friends and simply assume that the blonde was dead – but knowing what he did of Naruto, his own conclusions would not allow him to even contemplate Naruto's death. There were simply too many unknowns and too much left to chance.

Naruto had been a force of nature quite unlike anyone else. Shikamaru was certain that anyone the blonde had encountered had come away changed in one manner or another.

_"I don't go back on my word . . . that's my ninja way."_

He had been the most troublesome ninja, true, but also the best friend any shinobi could have asked for. There were holes in Konoha that only Naruto could fill. The rest of Konoha might have been content with his name carved on the damn memorial stone but Shikamaru knew better.

He was still alive. He had to be.

Shikamaru reeled himself back from his musings. This was not the time for this, he had a mission to take care of, especially as this mission had troublesome written all over it to begin with.

Godaime had called him into her office early yesterday morning – he hated waking up early in the morning, which was never going to change – and had handed him this mission. If Neji had been around Shikamaru would have just taken him along, but the Hyuuga was on another mission with Team Gai and so he was stuck taking Shino and Kiba. Not that he minded any of them really, but he had worked with Neji so frequently in the last few years that their teamwork was flawless.

Shikamaru's progress within the shinobi ranks had not really come as a surprise to those who knew him well. Chuunin at thirteen, Jounin at fifteen and ANBU at sixteen – not quite up to par with the records set by prodigies like the Copy-nin Kakashi or the once Uchiha treasure Itachi, but an impressive feat none the less. Now at twenty- three he commanded his own ANBU team and he was sorely missing their presence in this mission.

He knew that Neji had been busy, but the other two members of his team had been perfectly functional and available – the Hokage had a hidden agenda here, he just hadn't figured it out yet.

To his right, Kiba rustled again and Shikamaru fought the urge to groan in annoyance. To be fair though, their contact was fifteen minutes late and under ordinary circumstances Kiba's restlessness could very well have been transferred unto him. But after working under the infamous Hatake Kakashi, Shikamaru now had a different definition of 'on time'. He had often wondered how Naruto had put up with his sensei in his days as genin.

Naruto!

Again.

His thoughts headed down this path far too often for it to be healthy. He knew however that he wasn't the only one to be plagued by thoughts and images of his one time friend. Neji had commented more than once on the subject of Naruto's supposed death. And Kakashi . . . well no one had been quite as affected by Naruto's disappearance than Kakashi, not even Iruka had been as devastated or as destructive in the aftermath. Kakashi had quit life as a Jounin and returned to the ranks of the ANBU, reckless and frightening in his intensity. He spent more hours in front of the cenotaph than he did in his own apartment, talking to names and memories of people from a lifetime ago – or so it seemed to him.

A faint chakra signature signaled the approach of his contact. Hopefully. Shikamaru was really not up to a fight today. His last mission had been a triple assassination and he was quite burnt out. The chakra signature grew minutely more significant – the person was only giving out what was necessary for them to spot him, no more. Shino's kikkai fluttered in the corner of his left eye, so he had felt it too – the tightly coiled power, well hidden yet not. Shikamaru was now more on edge on than before. The lack of information about the package, contact and their employer had made him raise an eyebrow at the Hokage this morning – not that she had given him an explanation more than go here, do this. It had taken quite a lot of his self control not to throw the mission scroll at her face.

Their contact was now in sight. The man was fairly tall.

Nearing six feet in height, he wore dark trousers and a dark blue shirt. Shikamaru's eyes travelled up the body noting the standard ANBU issued arm guards and gloves, the mask that hid the upper half of his face from view, and came to pause at the hitai-ate resting on the man's forehead, his hair hidden from view with a bandana.

Shikamaru held his breath.

This was a Konoha shinobi. An ANBU at that. One that had possibly been undercover for a long time.

The expression on the Hokage's face in her office this morning was beginning to make a little more sense. This man was not going to be handing over a package; he was the package. Someone of importance then, considering that the Hokage had sent him in. But still someone strong enough not to need full ANBU squad behind him – as if that hadn't been obvious as soon the guy had come in range. Shikamaru knew where he wanted his thoughts to go – to that unhealthy place Ino kept complaining about. The odds were quite low of course, but hadn't Naruto always defied odds?

Shikamaru watched breathless as the man came to a standstill in front of him, a slow, roguish grin twisting his lips - the only visible part of his face really – and he knew for certain that ghosts existed.

"Mendokusē" . . .

* * *

Uzumaki, Naruto at twenty-two was an immensely attractive man. At eighteen Naruto had been growing – physically and mentally – at an alarming rate; Shikamaru could see the results in front of him now. Four years of heartache and doubt and here he stood taking off his mask, a careless grin on his face; his eyes ridiculously blue and intense and amused and happy and tired all at once – Shikamaru could hardly believe his eyes.

His team mates were standing shock still next to him – Shino quiet and tense as his bugs moved about restlessly and Kiba with his jaw somewhere on the floor.

Honestly.

Here was Naruto, quite alive and smiling and healthy and tall and handsome and goddamn it Shikamaru wanted to cry and he hadn't cried when they'd held the funeral for Naruto on that cold November four years ago, mostly because he had refused to believe the bastard dead.

And he was right.

To his left, Kiba jolted awake from his disbelieving trance.

"You bastard", he lunged at Naruto, who made absolutely no move to get out of his way. Then Kiba was punching his jaw and cursing and drawing him into an embrace all at once, face tight with a long nursed grief and eyes alight with hope and happiness. And Naruto hugged him back, strong arms around strong shoulders, his face hidden in Kiba's neck, body shaking so strongly that even Shikamaru standing at least ten paces away noticed.

It hadn't been easy for him either. This Shikamaru could see very clearly. There were a thousand questions running through his mind as he analyzed the situation and came up with more than a dozen explanations – the only ones who could give him answers were either the Hokage herself or Naruto and Shikamaru knew better than to ask either of them until much, much later. He shot Naruto a look full of warning and caution as he drew back from Kiba. Mouth twisted in a sardonic smile, Naruto dipped his head quietly. Both knew that his return to Konoha would not be taken as lightly as the three that stood before him had done. Suddenly Shikamaru was quite glad that he had brought these two along for the mission. As he watched Naruto shake hands with Shino and converse lightly with his two teammates, he was struck by how much trouble was headed their way.

Not everyone in Konoha was going to welcome Naruto home – and wasn't that an understatement.

Not all of Naruto's friends were going to greet him with a smile either.

There were going to be fireworks, Shikamaru knew, when Naruto returned to Konoha. But then again Uzumaki Naruto had always been good at making situations and people explode.

Really.

"Mendokusē" . . .

* * *

** Naruto****: Stumble**

His heart was pounding in his chest.

As he raced to the rendezvous point, Naruto realized that for the first time in his life he had sweaty palms.

Sweaty palms equaled nervousness and he hadn't been this nervous since the infamous night that had gained him his hitai-ate. He kept telling himself that there was nothing to worry about. Sakura would hit him multiple times, then hug him and then cry and then hit him again, and Ino would probably help. Lee would bawl, a lot. Neji might break an arm or a leg or both – oh who was he kidding, they were all going to be ridiculously mad, spitting and cursing and want to kill you mad. The only rational ones out of the lot might be Shikamaru and Shino – and he wasn't too sure about those two either.

Damn it. Why had he made friends with these people again?

There had to be a way for him to diffuse the situation. He had invested too much time, energy and love into these relationships for them to falter just because he had been involved in a conspiracy with Tsunade-baachan to play dead for four years.

Ha! He was going to get his ass handed to him – spectacularly.

He had argued rather loudly with Tsunade when she had told him of this plan – this mission that Jiraiya and she had conceived together. Akatsuki had been relentless in their pursuit of Naruto over the years, and at eighteen he was getting tired of it. So was the rest of the village and the council – there had really been no other options. He knew this. Kami knew how difficult it had been for him to survive these past four years. He knew it could have been longer, that there must really be a need for him in Konoha for Tsunade to have called him back now – but he wished it was under better circumstances, maybe after he or the old hag had eased his friends to the truth.

Tsunade just wanted to sit back and watch everyone pummel him. He was sure of this. She was the Hokage; it wasn't going to be her in trouble. No one would dare point fingers her way. He was definitely going to take the fall for this one.

What else was new?

He raced from tree to tree, pace steady, mind swarming with possible scenarios he could be confronted with upon his return home. He worried about Iruka, had worried about the man for these years he'd been away. Iruka had given him a home when everyone else had shunned and hated him and for that he would be forever grateful.

He worried about his old Jounin-sensei too. He knew Kakashi had lost almost everyone who had been precious to him. He hoped he had not been hit too hard by his disappearance.

For four years he had dreamed of Konoha and his friends, and now he could almost taste the air of his village. He could feel the smiles and the smirks and the hugs as if he had only experienced them hours before and not four years ago. Of course he could also feel the sneers and the stones and the slurs and the hate that permeated from the villagers.

_"Yondaime wanted the village to see you as a hero Naruto",_ Sandaime had said, all those years ago. As if.

He had spent so many lonely years because of the sealing, trying so hard to gain attention and failing over and over again. His first team had been his lifeline then, and the friendships he had cultivated after Sasuke had run off to Orochimaru were more precious to him than his own life, which was why his palms were sweaty and his heart was thundering in his chest.

_"Damn it Tsunade-baba, I hope they all listen to your explanation and not jump me as soon as I get to __Konoha__."_

Two minutes now, maybe even less and then he could gaze at familiar faces again. It had been so difficult avoiding Leaf nin for four years, mostly because he was always seized with an inexplicable need to look at their faces, watch their interactions when they had missions close to him. Four years without contact with them had left him with a strange sort of hunger. He wondered who was meeting him – he hoped it wasn't anyone scary or super strong or someone who hated him – no baa-chan had more sense than that.

Hopefully.

Looking at Shikamaru from behind his mask was pretty cool. He watched with faint grin as his friend's eyebrows furrowed in concentration and his hands met in the familiar oval shape that signaled he was concentrating very deeply. Shikamaru stopped breathing for a while, his eyes widening slightly and Naruto wanted to laugh as the familiar phrase dropped off of his lips.

_"__Mendokusē__"._

There would be a lot of yelling and a lot of explaining and tears and anger but it would be okay.

He let Kiba's punch land on his face. His body shook with tremors as one of his oldest friends folded him in his arms and he hugged him back with all his strength.

There was trouble to come but he could weather it now. After all he had his strength back.


End file.
